


Market Price

by texastoasted



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: AU, M/M, farmers market yeehaw, helmet party
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-25
Updated: 2019-10-25
Packaged: 2021-01-02 19:45:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21166898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/texastoasted/pseuds/texastoasted
Summary: Dell is finding retirement a bit dull, until a stranger in town comes along and makes life a bit more exciting.





	Market Price

**Author's Note:**

> birthday gift for my friend @those-damn-mercs on tumblr :,) happy bday!!! <3

There was a gentle  _ woof _ by his side and the daily morning sensation of a wet nose pressing into his ear canal that Dell had never gotten quite used to. His face screwed up in an expression of disgust and he half-heartedly shoved the golden retriever away from the side of the bed.

“I’m up, Beans,” he mumbled, the clutches of sleep lingering around like evening gnats. Saturday still meant up before sunrise, but the farmer’s market didn’t start until ten o’clock. Sleeping in a little was his belligerent way of giving in, somehow, to the ‘retirement’ expectation. Dell hadn’t been much acting like he was retired in any other way. He had always enjoyed being early to rise, but he had grown up sleeping in on Sundays and it was a comforting habit that he allowed himself to indulge in. Dell heaved a sigh as he pushed the quilt back and swung his legs over the side of the bed. His bones ached, haughty and unwilling to move as he got older. One of his hands went on top of Beans’ golden head, who was sitting patiently by his bedside, and the other went to the glass of water on the side table.

When his truck rolled into the farmer’s market at nine o’clock, as prompt as ever, his stall neighbor looked up and waved when she heard the sound of gravel pinging off the underside of his vehicle.

“How’s it going, Dell?” she called, spreading a wide gingham cloth over her tables.

“Good, thanks,” he answered cheerfully, hopping down from the cabin. Beans bounded out of the truck behind him and dived under Margie’s table, his tail wagging fiercely. She smiled, the deep lines around her eyes spreading, and rummaged for a particularly large piece of beef jerky for Beans in one of her sample bags. “How about you?”

“Doing well! Remember my son’s coming to town tomorrow, with his new fiancee?” she wiggled her eyebrows meaningfully. “She’s a city girl.”

Dell grinned, reaching up to run his fingers through his beard before treading to the back of his truck to unload the pop-up tent poles. “Be nice now, Margie. Give her a chance.”

“Oh, I will, I will,” she answered, in a reluctant voice. 

They worked in comfortable silence, arranging goods on their tables and hanging signs, waving to other vendors that slowly rolled through behind the clump of tents. Dell kept an eye on the  _ Bee Cave Farmers Market _ sign going up at the front and straightened one of his jam jars for the sixth time. He had lost track of how long he’d been coming here, long enough that he knew almost everyone, and the familiar faces that would appear underneath his tent time and time again. He had started doing special orders and experimenting with new flavors, which surely would have made some relative that had used the same family jam recipe for decades turn in their grave, but it kept him busy when he wasn’t working on a mechanical project. 

Eventually, ten rolled around, and the parking lot was full to bursting. Dell was glad to be next to Margie-her jerky and barbeque sauces always drew a large crowd, who would then shift their wandering eyes over to him. It was fine if his goods didn’t draw a huge profit, he was content to chat with the milling customers and watch the crowd go by. She made for pleasant conversation, too, and was one of the best friends he had in Bee Cave.

Dell was counting the change he had in his cash box when a shadow fell over the table, unmoving, not even reaching out a hand to look.

“Hello there,” he said, a pleasant smile rolling onto his face as he looked up.

The man in front of him, needless to say, did not look like he belonged. Among the Texans clad in plaid shirts and cowboy hats, beer guts swinging above wide belt buckles, his prospective customer’s weight was all in his broad shoulders. He wore a thick olive jacket and a black turtleneck underneath. A baseball cap was pulled over his eyes. Dell was taken aback for a moment before his sense kicked in.

“Let me know if you have any questions, or would like to try a sample,” he said, rising to his feet and flipping the lid of the cash box closed.

The man’s hand emerged from inside the pocket of his jacket and he jabbed a finger towards the blackberry jam. A redness, which Dell guessed was from the afternoon heat that the stranger was unused to, began to spread in blotches across his cheeks.

Dell waited for a minute, his eyes searching the customer’s face. “Sample?” he offered.

A hurried nod. One sample went, and then another. The redness spread so fiercely Dell was afraid he was having an allergic reaction. 

“Are you feeling all right, sir?”

“Shelf life?” the man barked so suddenly Dell almost jumped. Margie, busy peddling jerky, looked over with a sharp expression. 

“About one to two years in the pantry, and up to a year in the fridge for the jams.” Dell answered easily. “They hold up pretty well.”

The man seemed to contemplate this information and his hand went up to rub the rough stubble on his chin. He had a sturdy, wide face under the shadow of the hat, firmly set in its contemplation, and large, calloused hands.  _ He’s handsome _ , Dell thought to himself, and cleared his throat.

“Okay. I will take them.”

“Which flavors?”

“All of them.”

“How many?” Dell asked on autopilot, reaching underneath the table for a box.

“All of them.”

His hands slowed, and Beans, at his feet, licked his ankle.

“Well, all right,” Dell said, with a surprised laugh. “Thank you, sir. I’m glad you like them.”

“They are the best jams I have ever tasted,” the customer said, with an air of seriousness like he was passing over nuclear launch codes. Dell’s own face flushed with a mixture of pride and embarrassment.

The man watched him tape up the stock he had not yet unpacked back into their transport crates. “Do you have a card?” he asked, in a gravelly low voice.

“I do. I’ll throw one in there for you.” He found his cheeks buzzing as he fished for a pen and scribbled something on the back of the card. “Got my work number on there, but there’s the personal line if you need it.”

Margie’s eyebrows had nearly disappeared into her hairline as Dell came over to ask her to watch his stall, hefting several boxes full of jam, jogging to keep up with the tall, broad stranger on the way to his car. Beans stayed obediently by Margie’s feet, but wagged his tail furiously as he watched them go, kicking up a fearsome cloud of dust.

Dell found himself casting glances at the landline mounted on his worktable as he was supposed to be fiddling with the connections in a new alarm system. He felt like a teenager again, waiting for a phone call-there was no guarantee it would even come, he reminded himself. He could have been reading the stranger’s vibes incorrectly. He could forget, or lose the number, or be too plain nervous to call. Dell had waited before for calls that never came, but he felt this was different. He’d been around the block and he had gotten pretty damn good at reading other people, so he’d jumped for it. Maybe it was a little uncharacteristic of him, but what the hell did he have to lose at this age? He’d been nervous, half-tripping over his own feet, continually casting glances up at the stranger. Then their eyes had locked, and there was the hint of an embarrassed smile, and damn if he hadn’t fallen more than a little bit. They had parted at his car, both of them reaching up at the same time to close the trunk, their thumbs brushing by each other. It was making him blush just thinking about it.

The day went on, and while earlier it had seemed almost impossible to forget about it, Dell got lost in his work as he always did, and almost missed the last ring of the phone that had been going off for a minute or so.

“Hell,” he cursed himself, scrambling for it. “This is Dell Conagher.”

Silence, on the other end.

“Hello?”

“Hello. Dell.” It was that low, rumbling voice, and Dell’s stomach fell through his feet.

“Hey there, it’s you. Realized I never caught your name.”

“Jane is fine. Jane Doe.” In the distance, Beans began to bark.

“All right, whatever suits you. How’s it going? Enjoying the jam?”

“Yes! Very much.”

Dell smiled, wrapping the cord of the phone around his finger, before he realized how idiotic he looked and shook it off his hand like a dead thing. “Glad to hear. Glad you called.”

“What are you doing today?”

“Oh, nothing much.” Dell leaned back in his chair, throwing an arm across his forehead. “Just working on some projects around the house. What about you?”

“I am outside your house,” Jane informed him proudly.

Dell blinked. “Oh!”

“Is that-”

“No, no, it’s fine, I’ll be right out.”

Dell set the phone down in its cradle and jogged outside of the barn to free Beans from his prison behind the screen door. The retriever bounded down the porch and to the door of the vehicle in front of house, the engine ticking as it cooled. Dell was unsurprised he hadn’t heard it roll up.

Jane stepped out, submitting his hands to Beans’ slobbering.

“What’s his name?”

“Beans.”

Jane’s face flushed a brilliant red. “Beans,” he repeated. “Hello, hello, you’re very handsome.”

A pleased smile settled on Dell’s face as Beans finally sat and yawned, leaning heavily against Jane’s legs. “He likes you!”

It felt, when Dell gazed upon Jane stroking Beans right behind his ears, that they had known each other forever, and it would feel even better and more like things had always been this way if he invited Jane inside for a piece of pie and a beer. Maybe retirement wasn’t so bad after all, Dell mused, if they could do it together.

  
  
  



End file.
